heartlines
by charlesxaviers
Summary: in which two sophomores get divorced and then have sex over a game of mario kart. / for sarah.


hi sarah this is really rushed because i was excited to write this, because i miss clam and i haven't read or written them in awhile. you are fab and ily.

[side note from before this was written — i don't have a name so i'm calling it "clam featuring dicks and mario kart: a novel" oops]

**prompts: **mario kart, blocking cheeseholes

**disclaimer: **no clique for me

[another side note — i sound incredibly unprofessional right now because i said "fuck it" to all rules of grammar and punctuation and i'm currently sobbing my head off over bucky fucking barnes and steve fucking rogers and the winter fucking soldier and the fucking soundtrack and just lots of gay shipping. if anyone has seen this movie or is in the fandom **_I URGE YOU TO REVIEW MENTIONING _**_**IT.**_]

okay bye

incoming smut holla

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**heartlines  
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Cam Fisher's oxford blue and forest eyes trailed intently on the television screen, following his speckled Toad character as it bounced across mushrooms. His fingers, nimble, scattered around the Wii controller as if he didn't even have his sets focused on them. The background music of the video game rang in his ears and his eyelashes fluttered as he narrowed his eyes in focus.

It was the third lap—and he, of course, was in first place as always. Toad was merely a few moments from the finish line. The corners of Cam's lips already began to raise in a triumphant grin, but at the last second, an ashen pale but somehow still adorable skeleton turtle whizzed past him.

"HA! I WON! I ACTUALLY BEAT _YOU _IN _MARIO KART!"_

In shock, Cam whipped his head to the girl beside him—she was hopping up and down as much as her character Dry Bones was, if not more—her nearly white hair fluffing up with each bounce, along with, as Cam artfully noted, her breasts, which seemed even perkier than usual. A wind gust of lightened blue climbed into her irises, and as happy as she was, and as happy as Cam _should _have been because they were dating, he couldn't help his reaction. He had a reputation to keep; he didn't lose at video games. Especially not Mario Kart. And especially not to Claire Lyons.

He abruptly pivoted as best he could while lounged on the couch, crossing his arms in the process. "I HATE YOU."

Claire scoffed, with a hidden pit of worry within it. "No you don't. You're just jealous of my amazing Mario Kart skills."

"Don't talk to me. We're breaking up and divorcing. I'm signing the papers _right now_," he overreacted, not making any move to even pretend to sign papers while maintaining his extremely sassy position.

"Well, I refuse to sign them."

"I'll forge your signature."

"I don't even have a signature, how will you do that?"

"_I'll invent a signature for you. And you'll be forced to use that signature the rest of your damn life."_

She sighed deeply, and Cam could feel her gaze staring down the back of his head, then slowly lowering down to his back and torso, which he arched an eyebrow at. "As long as you don't make it too much of a scribble, then we have a deal, Mr. Fisher." She reached out her hand to shake on it, which Cam made a point to ignore and not turn around.

Claire rolled her cornflower blue eyes and shifted dramatically as well, her back soon aligned with Cam's but both straightened uncomfortably. The next five minutes were so silent it hurt Cam's ears, only interrupted when he swiftly grabbed the remote, clicked the television off, and resumed his position.

His attempt at exasperation was faltered when he felt a certain milky, lithe hand creep over to his crotch and squeeze slightly, making him jump in both surprise and pleasure. He swatted at Claire's hand, determined to win their "fight" and not give a glance at her likely mischievous expression. Despite a new-found heat in his lower stomach, he tried his best to ignore it and shifted an inch away from her as she pouted.

"We're still in a fight," he stated, stifling a laugh with his knuckles pressed against his lips.

"Still?" Even her voice pouted as she began to sniffle, Cam completely forgetting that she happened to be a great actress. "Cam, I . . I thought you loved me."

"Of course I do, Clairebe—"

"Well you're not _acting _like it!" she whimpered, voice cracking, and Cam, needing to fulfill his duties as The Boyfriend, immediately turned and wrapped her tightly into his strong arms, not noticing her giggling as she nestled her head into his shoulder.

"You're such an idiot." Her dialogue didn't correspond at all to her position, one completely comfortable. Parting his lips in feigned anger, he relented in a content sigh as she ran her fingers through his inky hair; her hand snuck under his shirt, slipping around his torso to the behind and clawing up to reveal his smooth back. Cam tipped her chin up and locked lips with hers, warmly, but it turned passionate and desperate fast, lips clashing clumsily.

Letting a hot, brisk breath into her mouth as she traced her tongue around his lips, he mumbled against her, "Are we still divorced?"

"Of course, dumbo," she breathed out, but continued in the battle for dominance, folding her arms tightly around his neck and clenching her fingers in his wavy hair. Skin sparking, Cam hitched a breath as he felt himself heat up.

His hands found their way down the small of her back to her ass, and after squeezing slightly they slipped under her thighs and hoisted her up so her legs securely wrapped around his waist. The faint heat between her legs pressed against his abs, and before he knew it, Claire had managed to slide his band tee shirt over his head, leaving his hair more ruffled than usual. Breathing heavily, she clutched messily at his hair with one hand and ran her other up and down his muscled back, sucking lightly on his upper lip before moving to his lower lip. The pressure of them against each other stifled Cam's pleasured moan.

"God, Claire," he grumbled, yet grinned softly as best he could, fingers fumbling as he unbuttoned her hand-me-down blouse from Massie—_God, there were too many buttons. _Not wasting any time, he hastily unclasped her bra strap, collecting her milky breasts in his palms as they spilled out. The first time they had attempted anything close to this, it had been near a disaster, with lots of blushing and embarrassed muttering—it had been a miracle that they hadn't called it quits then and there.

Claire's neck arched back, and she scooted under him lightly to give a hint, which Cam noted and flipped on top of her, pinning her hands down with his against her faux leather basement couch. His lips made their way to the apple of her throat, kissing around, nipping and sucking in various places that he knew she found particularly blissful after experience, eliciting a satisfied moan from the blonde when necessary. While his hands travelled smoothly against her curves, pressing and stroking, hers fluttered appreciatively over his toned body, undoing the bronzed button of his dark wash jeans as she landed her chin roughly over his pacing shoulder.

With his chest and stomach clenching up, cock hot and bulging against his pants, Cam focused on pleasuring Claire and began kissing her breasts, trapping her left nipple in his mouth and sucking on it lightly. After softly nibbling and applying more pressure, his eyes smiled as a gasp escaped her lips.

"Cam," she moaned and tightened her fingers in his hair, forcefully bringing his face to hers and kissing hard before finishing, "Fuck me."

He nodded but breathed, "You sure?" and knit his eyebrows together—he had always made sure she was comfortable, and obviously had never gone too rough or fast—it was Claire Lyons, after all, who simply had a nature of caring and being cared for.

"Positive." Her voice was barely heard against Cam's lips. "Please."

With a disheveled bob of the head, he grazed his lips down from her neck to breasts to stomach to the top of her loose sweatpants, one of his pairs. It didn't take much effort at all to yank them down, as they were at least two sizes big on the blonde. The edge of her lace-lined underwear was soon pried down to her thighs, courtesy of Cam, and he deeply kissed the corner of her folds before sliding his tongue into the hole nearby. Claire was already soaking; he cherished the taste of her as his tongue swirled around, rougher now, making Claire arch her back up and whimper loudly.

She was loose, but not nearly enough—he shoved his lips back onto hers, each following the other's rhythmic movements, as his pointer and middle finger crammed between her legs, melting into her. Claire caught her breath, and clasped firmly around his neck while her tongue continued to fight against Cam's, each tasting the faint remainder of her from where his tongue had previously been.

His fingers slid aggressively in and out of her sopping folds, Claire beginning to feel a build up inside her. Cam parted not even a centimeter and planted a soft kiss on her nose, and she tilted her head up to capture his lips again, fitting together perfectly. Her entire body throbbed with the rhythm of his fingers. Groping her hands to his jeans, she tugged them off and caught his heated dick, enlarged within his white Calvin Kleins and nearly begging to be taken out; barely taking her lips off his, she yanked down his boxer briefs. Her hand stroked against the head, making Cam groan deeply and choppily. She quickened the movements, and Cam clenched up his palms, being so driven over the edge that he had to remove his fingers from her, part his lips away, and lower his head against the couch beside Claire's, in shudders.

She couldn't help but grin, faulting into a blissful gasp as his large cock nudged against her opening, which pulsed in vivid beats that made her hands and breaths quiver. As he poked inside her, she swallowed and grabbed at Cam's firm ass to push him in further, her walls trembling luxuriously with his size and filling her nearly completely up.

She cried out as his head dug into her g-spot, and Cam grunted at the tightening around him in pleasure. The air around them was already sweaty, steamy—he backed up a tiny bit before slamming into her again, a tremor erupting from within her and making him catch his twittering breath and Claire seize her body in the overwhelming feeling as Cam repeated the movement, both shaking and entwining with the others body.

"I love you," she sighed desperately against his collarbone, barely audible, but he lodged a fleeting kiss against her neck nonetheless.

Needing to feel him completely inside her, Claire bucked her hips again to align more with his, and Cam got the hint, pulled out thoroughly, and crammed inside her to the hilt, causing her to scream out as her spot was buried. Quaking, she filled to the brim with both his penis and the loading of an incoming orgasm inside her.

At her peak, nearly exploded with buildup before it let out in a strong wave, she and Cam rode out the orgasm roughly, Claire emitting a hitched gasp turned into a driven scream with it. White gushed out of her nearly a few seconds after her, spilling between her thighs and around the two of them. Claire's vision hazed with such overseen pleasure that she squeezed her eyes shut and moaned louder, more direly. The orgasm began dying down from its climax, but not before Claire clawed at Cam's back, holding on as if her life depended on it as Cam groaned loudly in satisfaction and rested his shuddering forehead above Claire's shoulder. He pressed the palms of his fingertip against her hole and beside his dick, pushing in and riding out the remainder.

She muffled her shriek against the side of his neck. Both feeling a sense of completion too soon, Cam pulled out of her and prodded his lips hard to hers again while muttering under his breath, commandingly, "Turn around."

Confused at first, Claire realized what he meant, and promptly turned, resting on her knees so her rounded ass was faced out towards him. Cam was about to slam into her this way when, all of a sudden, a creak from the top of the basement stairs sounded out.

"_My mom,_" Claire immediately hissed in fear, while Cam swore under his breath. Judi wouldn't hesitate to whack him if she even found them making out, let alone fucking on her basement couch, and if they didn't move to cover this up fast—try less than ten seconds fast—then he was absolutely screwed. In record time, he shoved his jeans and shirt back on, shoving his underwear between couch cushions out of lack of time to put them on, while Claire had more trouble now that she had a bra to clasp.

The steps came closer down the stairs, and Cam pulled Claire's shirt over her head to quicken the speed out of adrenaline, leaving the pants to her as he concealed the spilled cum all over the couch with pillows, having to sit on top of one patch that didn't get one.

Swiftly, he smoothed down his hair in an attempt to erase the sweat and mess, switched the television back on, and grabbed a controller just as Judi appeared at the bottom of the stairs, overflowing laundry basket in hand. He peeked at Claire, who was in a similar, pursued casual position beside him.

"You kids having fun?" Judi seemed oblivious as she asked sweetly, "Have you been playing video games this whole time?"

Cam responded with a blunt, "Yes," at the same time that Claire blurted out, "He's trying to block my cheesehole."

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alright


End file.
